Chapter 11: Turf War II

"Get down, take cover!" a capo of the Rossetti Family screamed at the top of his lungs as he instructed the associates and soldiers working under him.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

A hail of bullets rained down on his position right after he had given his instructions. However, it was still too late as a couple of people ended up dying.

"Fuck!" the capo cursed as he reloaded his gun, taking cover behind the bar counter. He had been having a fun night drinking with his crew when, all of a sudden, gangsters from the Buccanti Family entered the bar and opened fire.

Taken by surprise, the capo had lost a large number of his crew members in the first round of fire. And after that, the people on his side kept dropping like flies. After all, they were heavily outnumbered.

As he reloaded his gun, he couldn't help but think in annoyance, 'Those fucking higher-ups should've at least given us a warning. How the fuck did this get by them unnoticed?'

Just as he finished reloading and turned his head, his eyes widened as he saw the muzzle of a gun right in front of his eyes. The one holding the gun maniacally grinned at him. "Rest in peace."

BANG!

The bullet passed through the capo's head and it exploded like a watermelon. The shooter looked around and saw that most of the Rossetti gangsters had already died.

He grinned and instructed his crew, "Kill every last one of these bastards. And make sure they're dead."

Loud gunshots boomed out and flashes of light could be seen in the bar from the outside. The nearby pedestrians had already drawn back in fear; however, strangely enough, there weren't any cops in sight.

…

In an underground poker club, the floor was strewn with corpses, poker chips, and bloodied cards. Another shootout was taking place there, and things weren't looking good for the Rossettis.

The attack had happened so suddenly that they hadn't had any time to prepare. Most of the Rosettis were out having fun or relaxing and had been completely caught off guard.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The Rossetti capo dodged a hail of bullets and took cover behind a pillar. He shot back a few times, without even looking, trying to kill the opposing gangsters through a fluke. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side today.

He looked at a soldier who was hiding under a table, cowering in fear. He gritted his teeth in anger and screamed, "You fucking weasel! Call for reinforcement if you aren't doing anything."

The soldier stuttered, "Y-Yes, boss." He called the people that he knew in the other crews, but none of them picked up. He looked at his boss, his eyes beginning to tear up. "B-Boss… none of them are answering."

Realization suddenly dawned on the capo as he thought to himself, 'Don't tell me… are all our territories under attack!?' He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Then his eyes narrowed as he muttered, "Fucking bastards. If I'm gonna die, I'll take you all down with me."

Right at that moment, a small, can-shaped object rolled to his feet. He lowered his head and his eyes widened. Only one word echoed inside his mind: 'Flashbang!'

The next moment, a blinding white light filled his vision and a loud explosion deafened him, causing him to become disoriented. Then, darkness engulfed him. All the gangsters of the Rossetti family had been brutally killed in the club.

Similar massacres were taking place across all the neighborhoods that the Rossetti family controlled. However, not a single cop came to the scene; they generally stayed out of gang wars.

Even more so when the mafia was involved. After all, the majority of the cops in each of the precincts, and even people from the city commissioner's office, were on the mafia's payroll.

The general notion was that if the bad guys were shooting at each other, why should the NYPD risk their lives? They wouldn't make a move unless innocent citizens were involved.

And the mafia was wise enough to never involve the innocents. After all, that was bad for business.

…

David stood on the roof of a building, his tie and the hem of his black blazer fluttering in the wind. He was calm and composed, not the least bit nervous about facing the Buccantis. In fact, he was excited and ready for war.

He closed his eyes and focused his senses. After the boost by the system, David had been surprised by his improved senses, which had actually grown much more than his status window showed. And over time, he had learned to hone them.

Currently, he was focusing on listening for any gunshots. Slowly, he canceled out all the noise until he was able to hear what he was aiming for. And hear he did. He opened his eyes and looked in a certain direction, his lips forming a grin.

"Hmm, only a block away," he mumbled. The next moment, he leaped off the building and landed on the fire escape of the building right across from him. The alleys between buildings were narrow, so it was easier for him to jump between them.

He agilely maneuvered his way down the stairs and ran at his fastest speed. After running for a few moments, he caught sight of six people ganging up on two crew members that he knew.

The shootout was happening in a secluded alleyway. David silently approached his enemies from behind. Even with the increase in his stats, he didn't think he could fight half a dozen people head-on, so he would need to use guerrilla tactics.

He took out two daggers from behind his waist and slowly walked toward the closest person without making a sound. He then covered their mouth and slit their throat. Following that, he stabbed his target's chest a couple times until he was sure that the person had died.

Silently laying him on the ground, so the noise of a falling body didn't alert his companions, David then walked to the next person closest to him. In the same way, he covered his mouth and slit his throat. But this time, just as he was laying the fresh corpse on the ground, another enemy happened to see him.

He screamed in alarm, "There's another one behind—" However, before he could finish his sentence, David had already thrown his daggers at him. The daggers accurately stabbed the person—one in the head and the other in the chest—and instantly killed him.

Before the remaining three could make a move, he took out the gun in his shoulder holster and shot the person nearest to him.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Two shots to the chest and one to the head. By now, the other two were already aiming their guns, ready to shoot him. However, David didn't panic but rushed toward the person he had just shot, rolled over his body, grabbed his collar, and used him as a human shield.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The two remaining Buccantis fired a rain of bullets at David, however, nothing got past the corpse he was holding. After making sure that his enemies had run out of ammo, he threw his macabre shield aside and dashed toward them.

One of the men, realizing that he couldn't reload before David got to him, wildly swung his fist. David crouched with ease and dodged the punch. He grabbed the person's wrist and then delivered an uppercut to his elbow, breaking it at 90 degrees in the wrong direction.

The man screamed in pain as he saw the bone jutting out from his elbow. David grabbed the bone and viciously yanked it out of his arm, then threw the blunt bone at the other person so hard that it penetrated his neck.

He then lifted his pistol and shot the two in the head, back to back.

BANG! BANG!

Not even a minute had passed, but David had already murdered six men. He exhaled a deep breath, then looked at the six corpses and nodded. "Not bad."

He was very satisfied with his performance just now. He then looked at two of his crew members, who were looking at him in awe and disbelief, and asked, "Do you know where Roberto is?"

One of them snapped back to his senses and replied, "Last I heard, he was headed to our warehouse at the docks."